


Day 364

by Josh_the_Bard



Series: A Year in Kirkwall [364]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28435413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josh_the_Bard/pseuds/Josh_the_Bard
Series: A Year in Kirkwall [364]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589257
Kudos: 1





	Day 364

Hawke woke, and for the first time in quite a while, was instantly at full alertness. He was absolutely determined to make today the best day possible because tomorrow was going to be absolute shit no matter what. Tomorrow was the one year anniversary of the Qunari invasion and his, now famous, battle with the Arishok. There were to be feasts and celebrations and he was required to attend most of the events since the city was honoring him. As Lady Elegant put it:

“The only reason an apostate is allowed to hold a title in Kirkwall is because you’re also the Champion and if you stop being the Champion you lose that protection.”

Tomorrow he belonged to the city, but today he was his own man and he could do what he wanted.

“Good morning messir,” Bodahn said, coming on with Hawke’s breakfast. “You're looking well today, if I may say.”

“You may,” Hawke replied. “I’m feeling well. How goes the preparations for tonight?”

“Everything will be in order,” Bodahn assured him. “Sandal will have all the enchantment done by mid-afternoon and the cooks are already starting their work.”

‘Humans, elves, dwarves all just … festering,’ the Arishok had once said to Hawke. ‘No purpose no goal… How can you stand to stay?’

Maybe the certainty of the Qune would make the lives of the people of Kirkwall better overall, but it would be bloody. He knew what would happen to himself and the other mages, to Merrill and Aners, under the Qun. Plenty of others would die resisting, or give their minds broken after the war, for all these reasons Hawke had stood against the Arishok a year ago. But that didn’ men he was entirely wrong. Hawke would honour his enemy by taking his words to heart.

Hawke ate his breakfast, dressed and set out for the orphanage. Lisa-Marie greeted him at the door with a tiered smile. Her hair was completely filled with wet clay and she was holding two children just far enough that they were out of kicking range.

“Is everything alright here?” he asked.

“Absolutely sir,” she replied. “Nothing I can’t handle. If you’re looking for Greta she’s in her office in the back.”

Hawke nodded his thanks and went to the artist’s studio .Greta had a notepad and several sketches she had apparently been working on. All of them featured a romanticized depiction of Hawke slaying the Arishok. In a few he was stabbing the Arishok, using his staff like a spear, on others he was using fire or lightning. In one it looked like giant spectral hands were tearing the Arishok in half. 

Hawke felt the flash of head from magical flames and the spray of blood. The look in the Arishok’s eyes when he realized that he failed. The bellowing of the Qunari mixed with the cheering of the nobled. The realization that peace was never an option. This would be his whole day tomorrow. He felt unsteady on his feet and leaned on a wall for support. Maferuff licked at his hands, soothing him a bit.

“Champion?” Greta ventured. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” he replied pushing off from the wall. “Let’s go with that one,” he said pointing to one where he was using fire. “It’s the most accurate and the colors pop more.”

“Of course Champion,” Greta replied. “I’ll get this made into a stencil.”

Hawke’s next stop was to the workroom where the children were crafting their plates. Veri was supervising but left her post to come over and greet him. She seemed much more relaxed then she had yesterday.

“We’re still working through the basics,” she explained, nodding towards a particularly lopsided plate someone was trying to fix.

“I was hoping to have our first set ready for sale at the celebrations tomorrow,” he said. Tomorrow would be when enthusiasm for Hawke and his fight was highest and they could sell the most art of the battle.

“Not if you want the plates to be any good,” Veri said. “We can make a few for display and people will place orders that we can fill in a few weeks.”

“Are you suggesting that I don’t know how to manage a business?” Hawke asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I… I’m just telling you my opinion,” she replied, a bit less confident than she had been a second ago.

“Good,” Hawke laughed. “I’ll trust your opinion. Have as many as you can ready for the event tomorrow but make sure they’re good. It seems as though you have things well in hand here, and no one is making too much trouble.”

“Not too much Champion,” Veri agreed. Hawke nodded and departed the orphanage, confident that it was in good hands. He had some time to kill before his friends arrived for the party… he thought he might go for a walk along the coast, not that most of the tal-vashoth had been driven off it was really quite nice.


End file.
